


Neuro Logical

by musicmuse0609



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Character, Dissociation, Gen, Logan doesn't take care of himself but we will, Sensory Overload, internalized ableism, neuroatypical character, neurodivergent character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 05:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15901854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmuse0609/pseuds/musicmuse0609
Summary: Logan notices the ways he is different from the other sides, and decides to figure out why.He struggles to deal with the aftermath.





	Neuro Logical

It started one night when Logan was conducting research for one of Thomas's videos. He was having trouble concentrating, his mind replaying a snide comment he'd received from Roman earlier that day. "You're like a robot whose programming was never finished. They forgot to add the feeling function." Logan had replied, as usual, that he was logic and not an emotion. But rather than letting it go, as he usually would, it stuck in his brain, coming around again and again to torment him.

  
Why did this particular comment bother him so much? It was hardly the first time Roman had poked fun at his stoic nature. He wasn't ashamed of his lack of emotions. After all, his function, the purpose of his existence, necessitated neutrality. Was it because of the situation that incited Roman's remark? Logan intention had not been to cause Patton distress, but that was the result. Virgil elected not to contribute to Roman’s commentary, but he had glared at Logan. Clearly, Logan had made a mistake, but he couldn't understand why his actions were reprehensible. And Roman's words suggested that the reason Logan didn't understand was because of his lack of emotion.

  
Logan watched the computer screen, the rhythmic blinking of the cursor in the search bar. He had always found this calming, that steady beat ready to receive an inquiry, the beat of knowledge yet to be collected. Yet, in a word processor, this blinking inspired in him anticipation. There were millions of possibilities for what could be created with that little blinking line, and each sentence, each word, each character brought the document closer and closer to clarification. It was thrilling. 

For his current inquiry, he found it strangely difficult to choose words. Perhaps because this was a personal search, and any results could potentially reflect back on him? He pushed past this illogical insecurity, and decided to type in a more articulate version of Roman’s observation about him.  


"Lack of emotional empathy" returned results about emotional disorders, from depression to bipolar. Logan dismissed these suggestions immediately. He was not a whole person with his own brain; therefore, he was incapable of having a disorder that did not affect Thomas. He decided to try a variation of his search. “Lack of emotional response" prompted mostly links to sites about flat affect. Once again, this seemed ridiculous to him, and he cleared the search bar.  


Perhaps he was going about this the wrong way. He was basing his search on Roman's observations of his behavior. What if he taylored his search to his own perspective? Patton's anguish flashed in his mind, along with Logan's own guilt for causing this reaction and simultaneous confusion about the reason behind it. He typed, "difficulty understanding social interaction."

On the first page of results was a page from an autism advocacy website. Once again, Logan was ready to dismiss this as a possibility since Thomas did not have Autism Spectrum Disorder. However, two things about the preview of the page caught his attention. The first was that the phrase the search engine had identified from the website was almost identical to the one he had typed. The second was that the top of the preview described autism as a neurological variation, rather than a disorder or a disability. This was enough to pique his curiosity, and he clicked on the link.

The page was an overview of autism and brief explanations of characteristics exhibited by autistic individuals. And Logan tried, he really tried not to relate the list to his own experiences, he tried not to see himself reflected in it. But he couldn't deny the similarities. And he decided to dig just a little bit deeper.

He clicked on link after link, educating himself on termanology, advocacy debates, and common autistic traits. But what ultimately swayed him was an article on the original website he found arguing the semantics of how to refer to autistic individuals. The article itself was a fascinating review of the conflicting arguments about nuanced semantics and their significance, but what was significant to Logan was that it reshaped the way he understood autism itself. Specifically, the paragraph which described it as "an edifying and meaningful component of a person's identity [that] defines the ways in which an individual experiences and understands the world." That meant that autism wasn't just a pathology; it was part of a person's identity.

Logan sat back in his chair, contemplating everything he had read. His immediate reaction was still to deny that he could be autistic, as Thomas was not. But the idea of autism as an identity caused him to rethink this argument. Sure, Logan as an aspect of Thomas could not be individually diagnosed with autism. However, since the sides existed both as functions of Thomas and as characters, that didn't mean that it was impossible for the character of Logan, specifically his actions and the way he experienced the world, to be described as autistic. Afterall, many autistic traits overlapped with the archetype of the socially inept genius, which was how Thomas had characterized Logan. Furthermore, it would hardly be the first time that any of the sides, as characters, diverged from Thomas's identity. Somehow, Patton was a dad, Roman knew Spanish, and Virgil had a distinctly separate music taste, yet they all continued function as aspects of Thomas.

The more that Logan's mind considered this possibility, the less he could deny its viability. Logan made a mental list of dozens of questions to further research, but the most prevalent was this: how would he tell the others?

  
~~~

  
Experiment: To determine to what extent the subject (Logan (Logic) Sanders) is autistic   
  
Procedure: Create a list of autistic traits, observe behaviors of the subject, and determine compatibility with self-diagnosis   
  
Data:   
Special interests (desire to research facts on specific topics) - confirmed   
Info-dumping (regurgitation of facts, sometimes uncontrollably) - confirmed   
Lack of empathy/emotion - confirmed   
Limited understanding of social conventions - confirmed   
Hyperfocus - confirmed   
  
Easily overwhelmed - variable   
Lack of OR excessive eye contact - variable   
Reliance on routine - variable   
  
Speaking in monotone - disregarded (opposite behavior observed)   
Limited ability to follow directions - disregarded (opposite behavior observed)   
Inhibited ability to communicate with others - disregarded (plethora of evidence to the contrary)   
Over OR under sensitivity to physical stimuli - disregarded (no physical body)   
  
Self-stimulation/stimming (repetitive motions or verbalizations) as coping mechanism - TBD   
Experiencing meltdowns/shutdowns - TBD   
Experiencing burnout - TBD   
  
Conclusion: Many behaviors exhibited by the subject align with autistic traits. These behaviors are also expressed at a more significant rate than non-autistic behaviors. Self-diagnosis is likely.   
  
Further research:   
How much stress can the subject handle before reaching burnout, meltdown, and/or shutdown?   
Is self-stimulation (stimming) an effective coping mechanism for the subject?   
What implications does this have for Thomas and the other sides?   
~~How do I tell them?~~

~~~

No matter how much research Logan had conducted, there was still a lingering doubt that left him unable to definitively connect an autistic identity to himself. No, it had taken an observation-based research experiment on himself to convince Logan of the reality of this conclusion. Now, it was no longer doubt but denial that gripped Logan, as well as an uncertainty about how to proceed. Of the questions that he had posed to research further, all required more observational data, with the exception of the final one that Logan barely dared to consider.

What could be the outcome, were he to confront the others? His best prediction, given their familiarity with autism (or rather, lack thereof), was that their first impulse would be to discuss how to ‘fix’ him. Logan had read plenty of accounts of well-meaning but prejudiced relatives proposing solutions that caused autistic individuals unnecessary distress. Even if there was a cure for autism (and Logan had encountered plenty of evidence to the contrary), so many of the traits that characterized Logan’s autism were parts of himself that he considered vital to his identity. He didn’t want to be ‘fixed;’ the very concept would cause him to become a shadow of himself.

The sides had learned long ago that trying to keep secrets in the mindscape was futile, yet Logan didn’t see any other option. How could any of the sides–or Thomas, for that matter–benefit from learning what he had discovered? No, the logical decision was to keep this to himself. Logan told himself that logic was his sole motivation, and that fear played no role in it. Not the fear that they would think less of him, or pity him, or cease to value his contributions. Of course fear played no role–it would be illogical to base decisions on fear.

So there it was then. He couldn’t face the others with this, not when he could barely face  it himself. Besides, he needed time to understand exactly how his autism manifested and whether he needed accommodations. He knew he would have to tell the others, eventually. But not now. For now, he would wait, and acquire more data.

  
~~~

  
Over the next several weeks, not much changed. For everyone else. But Logan fell into a new kind of normal, one characterized by silent epiphanies and hidden shame. 

There was the time Patton made an off-hand comment about space. Logan's mind lit up. A hundred facts about their solar system popped into his head, and he was ready to share them all. He could feel the words building in his chest, forming in his throat. But a detached part of his mind recognized this as 'info-dumping,' that it was an autistic behavior, and that the others wouldn't be as interested in what he had to say as he was in saying it. So he swallowed the facts and figures, saving the others from his vocal avalanche, saving himself from their glazed expressions and bored stares. Now that he understood what was happening, it was easier to stop himself. But to do so made his chest tight.

There was the time Logan, in a bout of exposition, waved his hand, a meaningless gesture to accent his point. Without thinking, he waved it again. And again. Before he could wave it a fourth time, he realized what he was doing, clenched his fist, and consciously lowered his hand to his side. He didn't need to stim, didn't need that repetitive, comforting motion. The pit in his stomach was lying to him, he was fine.

There was the time Roman looked him directly in the eye during an argument. Logan noticed that his first instinct was to avert his gaze. Instead, he maintained the prince's eye contact, despite the fact that Roman's voice seemed to disappear, despite the fact that his own thought processes came to a sputtering halt. He was determined to stand his ground. He refused to let it win. Whether 'it' was Roman or the autism, he couldn't say.

There was the time that he caught himself rocking gently back and forth when he was sitting at his desk. No one was around to catch him, but he forced himself to still, ignoring the ache of suppressing his muscles.

Logan postulated that he could be shaping his own reality. The more aware he became of his autistic tendencies, the more prevalent they became, and the more he felt like he needed the coping mechanisms he had learned, the ones he refused to indulge. But he still endeavored to fight himself and hide all this effort from the others.

And he had succeeded–with Roman, who was oblivious under the best circumstances. But Logan didn't notice Patton's worried glances. He didn't notice Virgil tense around him and start avoiding him altogether. Even Thomas could see that Logan was unusually reserved. But none of them commented on the changes they witnessed, which gave Logan the impression that he was achieving his goal.

Logan had created an unsteady balance, and despite the toll it was taking on him, the chronic exhaustion settling into his form, he was certain that he could keep this up as long as necessary.

  
~~~

  
Until Thomas approached him with a project. 

"I have an idea for my next video, but it's going to require a lot of research, and I need you to write all the arguments. You think you can handle that?"

No, Logan thought. He most certainly could not handle that in addition to keeping up the facade he was struggling to maintain. But he had no intention of explaining this to Thomas, so he agreed.

Alongside Thomas, Logan spent long sessions in front of the computer, gathering and organizing evidence. Logan's body and mind screamed at him to make Thomas take a break, but he ignored them. He would have been able to handle this work load before he learned about his autism, so why should it be any different now? They worked through meals and late into the night. Logan pushed through the ache in his tense shoulders and the cramps in his legs. And when he was alone, he was fine.

He paid the price of overworking himself when he was around the others.

Virgil would ask him a question and his mind would go blank, as if refusing to process the information and form a response, leaving him no choice but to shrug and retreat to his room. He took Roman’s metaphors literally, only to feel embarrassed when the others corrected him. Patton made the mistake of hugging Logan without warning, and Logan's skin started screaming at him. He violently recoiled, and one look at the pain and confusion on Patton's face was enough to send Logan back to his room.

But nothing could prepare him for actually filming the video that he had worked so hard to prepare for.

The night before was a waking nightmare. With the approaching deadline and a half-formed script, Thomas refused to let himself rest. He pushed himself and Logan well beyond the point he knew was healthy. As the words started blurring on the screen, Logan rubbed his eyes and briefly considered telling Thomas that this was too much for him to handle. But he knew Thomas would want an explanation, and he imagined confessing to Thomas the thing he had kept hidden for so long. His eyes shot open and he forced himself to focus.

As morning light started creeping through the windows, Thomas finally put the finishing touches on the script, and relief flooded Logan. Thomas collapsed on his bed and managed several hours of sleep, but Logan's mind was working too fast to shut off. It jumped between topics seemingly at random, refusing to follow a single train of thought to its natural conclusion. This caused Logan distress, and he couldn't relax his body enough to gain unconsciousness himself. By the time Thomas woke up to the text saying that Joan and Talyn were on their way, Logan had gone without sleep or rest for about twenty-four hours, which was compounded by the exhaustion he was already experiencing from trying to keep a secret from the other sides.

Logan was spacey as they set up for the video. He thought he had a little bit of time to himself because they had to film Thomas, Patton, and Roman before they got to his part. He tried to take it easy. But Joan kept coming to Logan to clarify the unintelligible parts of the script, and Thomas needed his input on the lines, too. Logan tried to answer, but it felt like thinking through honey. The normally clear and concise thought processes were fuzzy and scattered. He was relieved when they moved from Thomas to Patton. Patton's lines were more improvised puns than logical arguments, so they would leave Logan alone for a bit.

Logan grabbed a copy of the script, but as he tried to review his lines, the printed words started swimming on the page. Letters switched places, and whole sentences became a jumbled mess. Great, Logan thought. So he was dyslexic now, too? Wonderful. He sighed, threw the script to the side, and closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew, Thomas was shaking him awake. The gentle contact sent pain shooting through Logan's arm, and he yanked away from Thomas's touch. He was informed that they had finished filming Roman, and it was now his turn. Logan blinked as his mind tried to put the spoken words in order and assign meaning to them, having to decipher them one at a time. It took several seconds, but the comprehension finally settled in. He nodded and took his place by the stairs.

He once again reviewed his first few lines from the script as Thomas and Joan set up the camera. Luckily, the bit of sleep he'd managed to obtain took some of the fuzziness out of his thoughts, and the words were staying in place now. But he still felt an overwhelming exhaustion all the way to his core.

Just this video, he thought. He just had to push through this video, and then he could rest.

However, Thomas chose that moment to turn on the lights and position them on Logan's face.

Sensory overload was an experience that Logan had read about but couldn't imagine experiencing himself. Afterall, he had no physical body, so he wasn't able to perceive physical sensations to such an intense degree. At least, that was his theory. It was disproven as soon as Logan tried to function with those lights in his eyes.

Logically, he knew that they were necessary. Lighting was essential for video quality. They used the lights for all of Thomas's videos, on all of Thomas's sides, including Logan. But with his current state of stress, having the light in his face was like looking directly into the sun.

And that was the breaking point.

He was aware of every sensation on his skin: The glasses on his face, the constraint of his tie, the scratch of the tag in his shirt, the belt on his hips, the restriction of his shoes. He could hear each sound distinctly: The refrigerator in the kitchen, Talyn's shoes as they walked, Joan and Thomas's voices. And he handled all these sensations about as well as nails on a chalkboard. All the while, beams of light shot directly through his eyes and into his brain.

And just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

Everything. Stopped.

Nothing around him had changed, but everything was suddenly distant. The sounds were muffled. He couldn't focus his vision. There was a dark numbness settling over his entire body, like he was detached from it, like it was separate from him. But there was no relief in the sudden purge of sensation. He felt like he was trapped in his own brain, aware of everything that was happening but unable to participate in it. He had considered himself emotionless before, but he had never experienced true absence of emotion until this moment, and had he been able to feel, he would have been terrified. His body wouldn't even grace him with unconsciousness. He was there, but he wasn't.

A single word flashed in his mind: shutdown.

He could see the others talking to him, trying to get his attention, to get a reaction from him, but all he could do was watch, helpless. He screamed silently at them to turn the damn light off, to get him to a quiet place, and then to leave him so he could rock back and forth and flap his hands without an audience.

Thankfully, Talyn seemed to have at least some understanding of what was happening. Their voice cut through the fog.

"Logan, I'm going to turn the light off," they informed him in a calm, steady voice.

Good. For the love of Edison, make it happen.

The light disappeared, and Logan regained some awareness of his body. He took a deep breath, but engaging his diaphragm only caused him to start hyperventilating.

"Logan, I'm going to grab your arm and lead you over to the couch."

No, please don't.

Their delicate touch was painful, but at least Logan was prepared for it. As they pulled, his legs responded to keep him upright, and after a few paces, they gently nudged him backward. He was sitting down, the couch cushion pressing into his legs. It was unpleasant but grounding. His breathing slowed.

"Logan, I'm going to take your tie and your glasses off. Stay with me."

Logan's pride took a hit, but he felt the tiniest degree of relief with the restricting accessories stripped away.

"It's not enough. Joan, turn off the lights."

As the apartment went dark around him, the only light coming from the setting sun peaking through the cracks in the blinds, Logan blinked rapidly. He returned to himself.

He gasped, started breathing deeply as the oppressive numbness started to fade from his body and his mind. As the world came back into focus, he slowly clenched and unclenched his fists, just to feel attached to his body again.

His eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, and he made out six forms: three humans, and three sides.

"Logan?" Patton breathed.

But Talyn was still in control of the situation. "It's okay, Logan, just take deep breaths."

Logan was grateful for the dark as he felt warmth rushing to his cheeks. He was supremely embarrassed by his–episode. He didn't want to face anyone right now. He started to sink down.

"Logan!" Several voices called as they realized what was happening.

"Wait, let him go," Talyn said.

Logan barely registered his room as he collapsed on the bed, finally embraced by a deep and meaningful slumber.

  
~~~

  
Logan came back to the world slowly. The memories of the previous day were right there to greet him into consciousness. He groaned. So much for keeping a secret. He had completely self destructed right in front of everyone. He silently thanked any higher power that may exist that Talyn had been able to help him out of his shutdown. 

He felt a familiar tug in his chest. He was being summoned. Not actively; no one would force him to rise against his will. But there was definitely a persistent pressure, as if one of them was saying, when you're ready, we need to talk. Logan got up, changed, and let himself be pulled into the physical world.

He appeared in his familiar space by the stairs. Thomas and the sides were on the couch. Logan crossed his arms and looked down at the ground.

"Logan!" Patton yelled. Logan was pleasantly surprised that noises and lights were no longer as harsh as they had been earlier.

"Patton, no!" Virgil said.

Logan looked up to see that Patton was already halfway to him, arms outstretched. “Right. Talyn said no touching.” His face fell with his arms as he turned back to the couch, visibly deflated. A pang of guilt filled Logan's chest. It seemed he could do nothing but hurt Patton, lately.

"I suppose you're hoping for an explanation," Logan began.

"Wow, give the nerd a medal. Takes real brains to figure that one out."

"Roman," Thomas scolded. "Look, you don't have to justify your panic attack. I could tell I was overworking you, but I pushed you anyway. I'm sorry, Logan."

Logan's guilt expanded. Here he was, keeping secrets and lying, and Thomas was apologizing to him? And despite how awful he felt about it, he was still inclined to continue. After all, it was only logical–

He stopped his train of thought at that word. Logical. He'd been using it to justify his actions for weeks. But was lying really the logical course of action? Wouldn't it be more logical to admit that the reason he wanted to lie was because he was afraid of the truth? Afraid of how the sides would react. Afraid of how everything would change. Afraid of his own need for assistance, his own otherness. It was never logical to act out of fear. But the solution was not to deny that the fear existed. The logical course of action was to be honest, to face the truth and take responsibility for it.

"I appreciate your apology, Thomas, but I should be the one to apologize." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them, facing the others with open vulnerability. "What you witnessed was not a panic attack. It was a shutdown."

He registered their confusion at the unfamiliar word. He wanted nothing more than to correct it. He could feel the words building in his chest, ready to spill out. To info-dump. His chest tightened at his impulse to hold them back. But instead, for the first time in so long, he released them.

"I've been lying to you. Several weeks ago, I started researching the possibility that I might be autistic, and I've come to the conclusion that this is indeed the case. I've taken extensive notes, and if you need proof I can show them to you. What happened earlier, what you witnessed, is known as a shutdown. It happens when an autistic person reaches the limit of the amount of stress they can endure. Just as the term suggests, their body shuts down. _My_ body shut down, becoming unresponsive to external stimuli, as you observed. Talyn responded as if I was having a panic attack, and even though the problem was misdiagnosed, it did help to ground me and bring me out of it. I apologize for letting it get to that point, and for not informing you earlier that I needed a break." 

The others sat in silence, absorbing the information that Logan had presented. The longer the silence drew out, the more nervous Logan became. "I'm sure you have questions. I'd be happy to answer them." In fact, he wanted nothing more than to work through this as a group.

Roman was the first to respond. "Just because you're a nerd who needs flash cards for slang words doesn't mean you're disabled. Why do you think you have autism?"

" _Roman_ ," Thomas scolded again. 

"Semantically, it's preferable to use the adjective 'autistic.’ The phrase 'has autism' implies that the autism is separate from the person, which is not the case. Autism is not a disease. It's a neurological variation that affects a person's entire identity. I do not 'have autism,' I am 'autistic.' But to answer your question, my behavior and personality reflect traits that are common in autistic individuals. And I have observed that autistic coping mechanisms are effective for me."

"Do you think–I mean, should I get tested for autism?" Thomas asked.

"To the best of my knowledge, these traits are unique to me as a character and do not affect your functioning." Thomas nodded, and Logan notice him relax.

"Is that why you've been so distant lately?" Patton asked timidly.

"Yes. I seem to have an increased sensitivity to touch, brightness, and sound, which is exasperated when I am tired or stressed. Whether this has recently developed as a result of my awareness, or is a response that has always existed in me that I am just now becoming aware of, I cannot say. Either way, it's best to ask my permission before engaging in physical contact of any kind." Patton smiled sadly and nodded.

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Virgil asked.

Logan sighed. "I fooled myself into believing that hiding it was the best course of action for everyone. I did not anticipate how strenuous it would be to act neurotypical–which is a term used to describe non-autistic individuals. And–I was scared. Of how you all would react. I didn't want anything to change." Logan recalled the last few weeks, how difficult it was for him to keep up the act. He let himself imagine how much easier it could have been if he had been honest from the start, and he was overcome with the desire to live that reality, to be able to freely express the parts of himself he was ashamed of. "But, in the spirit of full honesty," his voice was shaking, but he pressed on, "I need things to change. I cannot keep going at this pace without actively engaging in autistic coping mechanisms." Despair at this confession made his throat tight and he choked back tears. "I'm trying all the time, but it's just too hard." He chest heaved as he breathed in, and a single tear slipped down his cheek.

"Logan," Patton asked gently. "Can I hug you?"

Logan nodded as he started to sob.

Patton approached Logan like he was a timid animal that might dart away if he moved too fast (which wasn't out of the question). With exaggerated tenderness, Patton wrapped his arms around Logan and pulled him into his chest. Logan removed his glasses and let himself cry into Patton's shoulder. For the first time in a long time, the touch felt pleasant, and he didn't want to let go.

After several minutes, Logan calmed down enough to pull away from Patton, wiping his eyes. "I apologize for my emotional outburst."

"You don't have to do that, Logan." Thomas said. "You're allowed to feel things."

"I prefer not to," Logan admitted.

"Honestly," Thomas began, "I don't know much about autism or what you need, but I want to learn, if you're willing to teach me. I don't want you to suffer, and I definitely don't want any of us to be the cause of your suffering." Thomas sighed. "I know what it's like to feel like you have to hide who you are, and I'm sorry we made you feel that way in your own home. Going forward, just focus on being yourself, let us know what you need, and we'll catch up. Deal?"

Logan surveyed each of the identical faces. They all reflected agreement with Thomas. He nodded in response to Thomas's sentiment. Logan had a lot to work through. But he felt stronger knowing he had the support of his family.

**Author's Note:**

> The specific website from the fic is not fictional. The web pages that are referenced can actually be found on the Autistic Self Advocacy Network website (and I do not own any of that material!)
> 
> As an autistic person it was important for me to expand on my headcanon that Logan is autistic. Thanks for taking the time to read this!


End file.
